


Trade Mistakes

by Jamilton



Category: Hamilton - Miranda, Hamilton - Miranda (Broadway Cast) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Attempt at Humor, Co-workers, Distant Whale Noises, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, I'm Bad At Summaries, Late Night Conversations, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Office Party, Pining, Secret Identity, Self-Esteem Issues, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, au in which your soulmate's thoughts appear on your skin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:47:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23564035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jamilton/pseuds/Jamilton
Summary: The scenery gradually faded, morphing into a smaller, more structured and articulate set of words, which spilled across his skin and disappeared just as quickly.'Urgh... too early...''What time is it?''Glasses, they were-''Wonder what he's doing...'
Relationships: Aaron Burr/John Laurens, Alexander Hamilton/Thomas Jefferson, Lafayette/Hercules Mulligan
Comments: 39
Kudos: 173





	1. First Contact

**Author's Note:**

> Look I know I said I would finish my other gremlin midnight babies and I meant it but I have writers block and this has been in my drafts for a while

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry, my language choices are so pretentious in the first half, but I dont want to keep repeating the same words over and over again. also, feel free to get attached to this, two chapters are already completed, so an update is guaranteed.

It was beginning to become something of a habit.

Alex would often chide himself for indulging in this, but regardless, he usually found himself in the same place; awake at six in the morning and gingerly scrutinizing his forearm. In the blanketed security of dawn, where he could direct the guilt coupled with his atypical intrigue on an early-morning haze, Alex would furtively admire the ink swirling against his skin.

Presently, the image was of Paris, ascribed with distinctive fondness; soft, delicate shading that drew the eye towards lighter points, giving a lazily illuminated aspect, and the proud, jutting silhouette of _La Tour de Eiffel_. On the off occasion, stray words and letters would form, dancing above buildings and drifting amongst clouds. Alex struggled not to read them - it seemed far too intimate, comparable to a serious breach of privacy.

The picture was almost always of France, and frequently of the capital city at night. Yet, despite the settings, the words idly gliding across the scene were entirely in fluent English. Alex didn't hold a particular opinion for the location itself - didn't care much for idolization of a selected place in general - but the gentleness of the depiction was incapable of inflicting indifference.

Privately, he found the ink, and the way it embedded each detail with such care, strangely soothing. For not the first time, he wondered what his thoughts would look like on the arm of another, whether they would be half-formed and rushed like most, or remain for a few seconds before gently fading out of existence.

The scenery gradually faded, morphing into a smaller, more structured and articulate set of words, which spilled across his skin and disappeared just as quickly.

_'Urgh... too early...'_

_'What time is it?'_

_'Glasses, they were-'_

_'Wonder what he's doing...'_

Alex snapped his gaze away from his forearm with the same force he would exhibit recoiling from an open flame. He tried to steady his thought process, avoiding any culpability in case it was projected and seen. With some trepidation, Alex directed his attentions on the pleasant prospects of coffee, hoping that this would distract him from the odd, disconcerting feeling of being caught out.

After a while, he was successful, easing into his routine without much further effort. Even with waking up early - as per usual - Alex still felt pressed for time, rushing about his apartment with little to no elegance. In spite of this, he still managed to leave just before he normally did.

The bus ride to work was indistinguishably nondescript, so Alex occupied himself by sorting through his phone, discarding the many spammed emails he was forced to endure from both John and Lafayette. Somehow, his silence would no doubt encourage them further to send various cat images that they both swore looked like Alex. Subconsciously, he almost moved to check his forearm, to see what might be there, before remembering himself and firmly looking away.

He arrived to work without further slip-ups, keeping his pace fast but even, head ducked and absorbed in studying the cracks on the paving. He waited by the usual point for a minute or so, glancing at his phone for any new updates, and was not surprised to find none.

"Alex!" A voice yelled. Alex glanced up, pocketing his phone in one fluid motion. John approached with a broad grin that Alex soon returned. "Cutting it a little late today, huh?"

"I got here before you." Alex retorted, though took no real offense. Together, they set off for the office building, just out of step with each other. A natural silence fell, in which they both relaxed into, comfortable with not filling the quiet. Alex wasn't much of a talker in the mornings, and although John could easily fill the silence, he acknowledged Alex's hatred of noises in what he considered the early morning. It was why, when there was a loud snort to his left, Alex startled. He frowned. "What are you laughing at?"

"Nothing, nothing." John dismissed with a lazy flick of his hand. Alex looked at him with a deeply-rooted distrust, and John relented with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. "Fine. It's my soulmate, he's - oh, don't give me that look, you were the one who asked."

Alex raised an eyebrow, severely unimpressed. "Didn't you say he has no sense of humor?"

"He still doesn't, but he's grown on me." John allowed after a pause of consideration. He glanced at his arm, tilting it slightly so Alex could look. In neat, evenly spaced letters, the response said, _'I could say the same thing_.' On a previously undiscovered reflex, Alex scrunched up his nose in distaste. John, however, practically swooned. "Aw! Look, Alex, he's so sweet!"

"That's disgusting." Alex said without particular emotion. Then, with a sparse lilt of curiosity that refused to be hidden, "How do you even do that?"

John took several seconds to reply, still grinning like an idiot over the inked message on his arm. As though he was finally sensing Alex's impatience, he blankly glanced up, obviously still distracted. "Hm?"

"Have an actual conversation." Alex tersely elaborated, then gave an awkward gesture to his own forearm, which was covered mainly to obscure his soul mark. He glanced around them, noting with some relief the way that John still managed to dodge passersby, albeit with some sluggishness to his movements.

"Just direct your thoughts." John shrugged, unbothered by the fact that it was out of character for Alex to even mention soulmates. "For the first while, until you get used to the whole talking-without-talking thing, it helps if you speak out loud."

Alex blinked. "What, talk to myself?"

"Well, yeah, but at the same time, no."

"I'm not doing that." Alex stated. "That's stupid."

"Whatever, man." John said, resuming his sickeningly fond watch over the script appearing against his arm. Then, uniquely unprovoked, he gestured pointedly with his left hand, with a vastly unwelcome air of proud vindication. "See? Your weirdness is worrying my soulmate, too."

_'What's going on?'_ Alex grumbled something in response in which even he wasn't sure of the exact words spoken. Whatever it was, it was vindictive, and John gained vengeance by attempting to push him into a lamppost. Though unsuccessful in his revenge, the reply John had thought of in answer to his soulmate's question seem to placate both himself and the recipient. The answering script was an arguably bland, _'I look forward to it. Have a nice day_.'

Once again, John got a dopey love-sick smile.

Alex made a face. "So, _so_ disgusting."

"You're just jealous." John sniffed.

"Of _what_?" Alex asked, causing John to make a deeply affronted noise. There was a moment taken to reflect upon what he had just said, and, with a pronounced wince, he realised how that could have been taken. Alex attempted to ease the blow with a softer, "You don't even know him."

"I _know_ his _soul_." John firmly contradicted, jutting his chin out in some sort of misplaced determination. Any sympathy Alex could have possibly felt to his plight was promptly thrown out the window. He groaned out of sheer exasperation, pinching the bridge of his nose. John - against all odds, against common sense - looked entirely unrepentant, and primly folded his arms. " _Yeah_ , that was cheesy, but I _stand_ by it."

"Again, for those in the back: disgusting."

John aimed a punch at his arm, and only succeeded in a vague nudge. "Stop being grossed out by my feelings."

"You know better than to ask that." Alex said, shooting him a wry look that was grudgingly returned.

The rest of the five minute walk was completed in relative silence, with John busy inspecting his forearm every five seconds or so for a message, and Alex physically having to drag him away from a diversity of objects before he walked into them. Passerbys regarded John with a mixture of amusement and frustration. Alex, however, thought that he was a goddamn idiot and needed to pay more attention to where he was going.

After enduring the brief but customary mocking about his supposedly serial-killer esque ID picture from John, they were through security and on the way to their respective offices. John resumed his recent past time - acting like a lovelorn teenager - and Alex kept watch of the corridors, ensuring that John didn't walk into anyone.

On the way to Alex's office, which only slightly preceded John's, both Hercules and Lafayette were waiting. They both seemed to notice him at the same time, Hercules offering a slight half-wave, and Lafayette smiling in recognition when Alex joined them.

John, however, almost strolled straight past them, fixated on his soul mark. Alex huffed, grabbing hold of the sleeve of John's shoulder. Surprised, and _finally_ paying attention to his surroundings, he articulately said, "Oh! When did you two get here?"

Lafayette and Alex shared grim looks, completely disregarding the question. "Was he like this all morning?"

Alex didn't smile. "Unfortunately."

John made an indistinct noise of indignance, paying full attention to what was being said now that he was directly involved. Lafayette snorted. His thoughts were played out against Hercules's arm, which was draped across Lafayette's shoulders, in an almost illegible sprawl. Alex wryly noted that the script was lighter than his own from reacting with the melanin in his skin.

_'Mon Dieu, he is such a moron_.'

"Hey!" John squawked, catching this and not letting it go.

With entirely false innocence, "What?"

There was a wild motion at Hercules, and at the script that was now slowly fading across his arm. "Don't ' _what_ ' me, ' _what_ ' yourself!"

With a defensive rise of his shoulders, Lafayette argued, "I didn't say it out loud, did I?"

"Thin ice, Lafayette." To emphasise his point, John narrowed the space between his fore finger and thumb, then glanced imploringly at Lafayette, expecting him to show sudden remorse. Lafayette, however, looked profoundly unbothered. John scowled. "Back me up, Alex!"

"No, I don't think I will." Alex said. The noise John made was of pure outrage, as though he had genuinely expected something other than a swift betrayal. After a second or so, and the irritating introduction of Lafayette's smug smile, Alex hastily added, "Though, in fairness, you two were the _exact_ same. It was _unbearable_."

"Ha!" John crowed in severely misguided triumph.

"Hm." Hercules said, and that was enough to display deep disagreement. He shook his head, likely trying to dislodge the sheer stupidity that had just occurred from his brain cells, before changing the topic. "Anyway, Lafayette and I were waiting here to tell you that Washington's called a staff meeting."

"Again?" Alex grimaced. "We had one last week."

John snickered. "'Cause someone unscrewed all joints to Seabury's desk."

"Yeah, thanks, Alex." Lafayette muttered in a tone that, bewilderingly enough, implied anything _but_ gratitude.

"You're more than welcome." Alex said, taking on the afflicted tone of a man who was too magnanimous for his own good. This generated several dubious murmurs, which Alex opted to gracefully ignore. They proceeded down the hall in unison. Halfway through to the meeting room, John decided that it would be highly entertaining to try and trip Alex up. Surprisingly, Alex did not agree with that sentiment, and responded with a similar effort of his own. This was when Hercules glared at them both and told them, in no uncertain turns, to stop under the threat of a prompt death.

The majority of the office had already arrived, save a few stragglers, themselves included. Alex took his usual place - half leaning against the wall, arms folded against his chest. John joined to his left, whereas both Hercules and Lafayette both sat down directly in front of them.

"What do you think this is about?" Alex asked in an undertone. A cursory glance across the room showed that all his coworkers had arrived and were now waiting on Washington's announcement. At the lack of response, Alex glanced at John, only to find him - _yet again_ \- pointedly watching his arm. He sighed, patience stretched to limits. "Seriously, John, you have an issue."

This finally got John to pay attention. "No, I don't."

"Yes, you do."

John opened his mouth to rebuke the claim, but just as he did so, the door clicked open, and Washington emerged. In what was close to perfect synchronisation, the room fell silent, regarding Washington as he walked into the room. "Good morning."

There were a few muttered responses, most impatient to return to work and not deal with any shape or form of bureaucracy. One of the Schuylers - Peggy, Alex belatedly identified - perked up. "Why were we called here?"

"Has anyone fucked up Seabury's office again?" Another voice questioned, drawing most eyes to Alex.

"That _wasn't_ me." Alex insisted, because whilst the culprit was certainly and almost entirely without reasonable doubt him, he still needed to have plausible deniability. John to give a loud, undignified snort. "It wasn't!"

"That isn't why we're here." Washington interrupted sharply. Once again, eyes snapped back to Washington. He drew himself to his full height, expression suddenly morbid. There was a long, foreboding pause. "It has been decided, by members of this company that are more senior than I, that next week there should be a winter formal."

"You're joking." Alex said flatly, at the same time Angelica Schyuler scowled, "What is this _bullshit_?"

"Unfortunately, it's what's going to happen." Washington stated firmly, giving Angelica a look of warning for her direct use of language. Then, with an expression growing far more apprehensive, he sighed, "Additionally, due to the last-second nature of this development, we have decided that it is best we join forces with-"

A collective objection broke out. Alex exchanged droll looks with John, and Alex muttered under his breath, "He better not say what I think he's about to say."

Washington patiently raised a hand, bringing the noise back down to silence. Despite the grudging compliance, staff still shared sardonic looks, all predicting what was going to be said next, and none of them liking it. Washington continued from where he was cut off. "We've decided that it is best to join forces with the only other local office, DemRep."

If all of Hell was equated to an arguably controlled outburst from dissatisfied office workers with an average age of thirty-six, then it broke loose.

"Oh, _great_." Peggy threw up her hands, as though some unknown deity was personally testing her. "It's bad enough we have to take the same seminar."

"They're the enemy!" Alex protested, garnering several murmurs of agreement.

Washington adopted a pinched expression. He seemed to debate between remaining quiet and waiting for the rabble to die down, or stepping in. After some thought, he seemed to come to the understanding that their gathered outrage would refuse to subside by itself. Despite his evident frustration, he kept his tone carefully level. "Again, we work for the _same people,_ we're just different branches."

Angelica pursed her lips, hands neatly placed on either hip. "They're still a rival company! We compete with their numbers every single week - and we have to deal with them being _bastards_ during each annual seminar."

"That _fucking_ seminar." John shook his head, eyebrows drawn into a frown of distaste.

"We work for the same people." Washington's voice left no room for argument. Even though this was distinctively the end of the discussion about business politics, a handful of people still persisted. Washington took the time to glare at each culprit individually.

"So, to sum this up, in one week we have to attend some random office party with people we don't even like _and_ pretend that we like them?" John's question was only half rhetorical.

"Yes." Washington answered. Then, with a significant look at Alex, he added, "I expect to see _all_ of you in attendance. That's all."

After the dismissal, the room slowly dispersed, conversations rising to the surface that almost exclusively comprised of what had just been announced. During the wait, Lafayette and Hercules had joined him and John. Alex lowered his voice. "That was such bullshit."

"It could be fun." Lafayette offered, and was abruptly met with two identical looks of skepticism. In mock defense, he raised his palms, taking a half-step back as though he could physically avoid the glares. "I have friends there. _I_ will have fun, at the very least."

"You have friends _everywhere_." Alex expressed morosely. " _I'm_ more selective."

"I don't know why you're so bothered, Alex. You're not even going to be there." Hercules pointed out, and normally, he would be correct in this assumption. He no longer needed the socialization and status climbing events; he had gotten where he wanted off of his own back, and he was quite comfortable with where he currently was.

However.

"I don't think I can talk my way out of this one. He made _direct eye contact_ with me." Alex lamented with a slight shake of his head. The meeting room had finally dwindled down to the last few people, and they were able to leave without getting caught up in the rabble. Alex didn't particularly care either way, but Hercules harboured a strong aversion to crowds. 

"Back to the wonderful world of work." John declared grandly as they walked down the corridors. The group parted ways, with Alex's office being the first one they came across. With a half-wave to his friends, he opened the office door, stepped in, and closed it behind him.

By his estimation, there was approximately seven hours of work left, and four before he had his mandatory lunch break. The issue was - he warily eyed the narrow files neatly stacked on the edge of his desk - Alex distinctively did _not_ have seven hours of work to do, and he would have to wait until Wednesday to get more things.

Nonetheless, he settled himself at his desk.

He was able to go several hours without disruption, although by the time he set off to lunch with John, his workload was dwindling to the point where he knew he had an hour or so left before completely running out. When Alex had expressed his healthy loathing of the situation, John merely regarded him as though he was fucking crazy.

With lunch break over and his work finished, he sat back at his desk and proceeded to do absolutely nothing.

For roughly six minutes.

Boredom swiftly made itself an irritant, and Alex was stuck with trying to find something to do. For the first hour or so, he was adequately able to find some entertainment by emailing John, and to a smaller degree, a less responsive Lafayette. Later, John had messaged him stating that he, tragically, also had to work, and would no longer be replying. It took Alex nineteen unanswered emails to finally give up.

There was no point in asking Washington for more work, as he would promptly be refused. Though, he idly mused, it would give him _something_ to do. Instead, he chose to hold himself as still as humanly possible, and lasted two minutes before deciding he disliked how he suddenly noticed the weight of his hands. It seemed that, later on in life, meditation would not be a pastime.

Due to an unforeseen tragedy, his phone had already run out of battery; maybe the scolding Hercules gave when Alex used it whilst it was still charging was _slightly_ warranted. This meant that he was down yet another distraction. Alex huffed, leaning back on his chair, and once again, the insistent urge to check on his soulmate began vexing him. With nothing to distract him, he could slowly begin to _feel_ the words on his forearm, like phantom pen against his skin.

It was obviously psychological, yet despite telling himself this, he could still _feel_ it. It was only a few more seconds before he finally gave in, and rolled up his sleeves.

There was a pause, then a heavy sigh.

He was already regretting his decision.

"Hey, you there?" Alex hazarded, putting as much emphasis in his speech as possible, peering down at his arm, and at the current thought displayed - _'I am so damn bored'_. For several seconds, the thought remained, though it was slowly morphing into a smaller, similarly bored phrase.

Alex tried to ignore the uneasy disappointment this brought. He wasn't entirely sure how _any_ of this worked, having no time or interest for trivial discussions. Though, with John's sudden fixation on his own soulmate, and the fact that he suddenly had time to spare, he was able to converse. Only, it seemed, the recipient was occupied. He leaned forward, pinching the bridge of his nose. " _Fuck_ , I sound stupid."

There was a pause.

Then, suddenly, his forearm _warmed,_ as though he had held it too close to fire. With some alarm, Alex glanced down, caught wholly unprepared, suddenly finding himself thrown in a situation that, whilst logically knowing was a possibility, he had not planned for.

' _Wait, what?_ '

' _First time he's tried-'_

_'Fuck, he can probably see that, now that he's actively-'_

Alex blinked, trying to catch the tail ends of each sentence that fell in rapid succession, to no avail. His arm suddenly went blank, an unfamiliar sight that made him oddly uncomfortable, despite the fact that his soulmark was still warm. Then, with a deadly, practiced precision, two words emerged.

_'Why now?'_

Shakily, he drew out a breath he did not know he was holding, inexplicable anxiety only building. Although Alex couldn't hear these words, a limited intuition suggested that like there was some form of an accusation intertwined in them. He reigned his thoughts back, trying to get them as clear as he could before carefully pronouncing, "I don't know. I just - got curious, I guess."

Another long pause, and Alex couldn't shake the feeling that he was being judged. By a _stranger_ , nonetheless.

' _Curious_.'

Despite himself, and the unfamiliar situation he was in, Alex could feel the corners of his lips quirk up at the sheer amount of _snark_ that a single, sarcastically repeated word had conveyed. He leaned forward, bracing his right arm so it lay horizontally against his desk. "Damn, you do _not_ sound impressed."

' _Oh, was it that obvious?_ '

"I..." Alex soundlessly trailed off, unsure how to respond. This was, he supposed, the drawbacks of not meeting in person. Though, there was no reason he couldn't ask, and no reason he could justify feeling awkward at doing so. "I can't tell if that was sarcastic or genuine."

' _Genuine. I guess tone is hard to read_.'

"I guess." He said. The entire conversation - if it could even be called that - felt knocked off of its centre, and Alex despised it. He wasn't able to read this person - well, literally, he _could_ \- but that didn't mean he could notice the infliction of someone's voice and maneuver his reply around that. He took another attempt, and tried with the half-joke of, "Well then. This is awkward."

He received the quickest reply yet.

' _Very_.'

And what the hell did _that_ mean? What was Alex supposed to make of this?

He stared blankly at his arm for a long time, stomach twisting itself into knots. The longer he remained quiet, the worse it felt. Quickly, he realised his mistake, and just how _bad_ of an idea this had been in the first place. "Fuck. Sorry for - yeah, just sorry."

' _You're n_ -'

Alex had looked away before he could finish reading that sentence. He shouldn't have done that, he knew before he reached out, and now he was left with the completely uncharacteristic anxiety. This just _wasn't_ like him.

That - brief lapse in judgement, whatever the hell it was - should never have happened. Alex assured himself that _wouldn't_ happen again. Hell, he had spent eight years ignoring the words on his skin, why should now be any different? The awareness that his soulmate was likely reading all of these didn't help.

It wasn't as though he hated having soulmate. He merely never held specific care for it, had never felt the urge to find someone and settle down.

Though, maybe, to a smaller degree, he was able to admit to himself that he was _lonely_. He hadn't gone on a date in years, hadn't even been interested in that sort of thing, and the idea that someone was out there, supposedly destined to _love_ him _unconditionally_ -

Well. Perhaps it had finally got to him. Maybe, the fact that a year ago, Lafayette met Hercules and he was able to see first hand how well some soulmates worked together, made him realise that part of him wanted that. And now that John was reaching out to his soulmate, and had found such happiness in the responses...

Regardless, he couldn't do it. Not _today_ , at least. This was why he loathed introspection - it brought things about his character which he would prefer to ignore. That thought in itself lead the route into another rabbit hole of its own.

Alex wondered if he was overthinking.

Probably.

A knock against his door frame startled him from his reverie. John had arrived, and, in a drastic and unprecedented change of pace, had decided to distract himself with his phone as opposed to his soul mark. At Alex's lack of response, he glanced up, raising an eyebrow. "Hey, Alex, you coming?"

"Oh." Alex glanced to a clock, showing that little under an hour had passed, but it had just turned ten past five. Then came the realisation that he had completely lost track of time, and that the diversion his own soulmate had provided had kept him occupied for _far_ longer than expected. "Sure."

The walk out of the office was filled with a tension projected solely by him. Alex was driven by the insistent demand to check his forearm, to see what would be present. Instead, he gritted his teeth, stuffing his hands in his pockets and resigned himself to the discomfort he was currently ignoring.

Though, with an arguably dejected slump to his shoulders, he wasn't explicitly successful. For the most part, Alex was able to listen into whatever the hell John was talking about now - likely his own soulmate. He would almost always wander back to the text on his arm.

For the first time since getting his mark at the age of eighteen, he had actively reached out, and, to his surprise, he had received a _reply_. Surprisingly, there was a degree of guilt following this understanding, though he couldn't accurately pinpoint why.

"-though, I'm not sure why he said that. I mean, I love the fact that we're different, and I _really_ like him, even if we've never met, but - you seem distracted." It took Alex several long seconds to realise that not only had John addressed something to him, but he had become quiet, expecting a response. Another pause, and the words that were just spoken finally clicked.

"Only by your good looks and charming personality." Alex said.

"You make me blush." John deadpanned in an equally monotonous tone. Then, with actual feeling in his voice, he added, "It just isn't like you. Normally, you walk like you're on a war path. Y'know, all concealed aggression and a general disdain for mankind."

"Good to know." Alex said. Then, John opened his mouth, likely about to peruse what had distracted Alex. He knew, in an instance, that rapid reflexes and quick, ingenious thinking would be required to deflect the conversation away from him and his sad life. After swift analysis, he went with what was likely the most successful option. "Why do you like him?"

This worked immediately. John's entire expression lit up and Alex inwardly cursed himself. There was little point in even listening when John got like this. " _Oh_ , he's just _wonderful_ -"

Thankfully, he only had to listen to John for a further four minutes before arriving at their customary meetup point and going their separate ways.


	2. First Contact: Reprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> previously: alex just tried to contact his soulmate. it worked, which for some reason surprised him, and he freaked out, because i will draw this out for as long as I freakin can. This came far later than expected,, like, I had already written half of it??

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jeez it feels like I keep repeating myself. Oh fuckin well, if I cant vote then I dont have to do anything productive with my time. Also, if anyone has a better idea for replacing my shitty summary, please comment

The primary issue was that Alex had a healthy penchant for self-sabotage. It wasn't as though he especially _wanted_ to become so damn preoccupied by the frivolous notion of soulmates ( _what utter bullshit_ ), or worry about the stranger he was binded to from birth. Although, once the ( _appalling, truly laughable_ ) idea of reaching out again was conceived, it took a solid root in his subconsciousness, and he was stuck.

It didn't matter why he was suddenly interested - boredom, loneliness, curiosity - the key problem lay in the fact that he simply wasn't _prepared_ for a life partner. Even when quickly approaching the alarming age of thirty, where all of his friends had married or searching for their own soulmate, family life had never been a pressing need.

Additionally, he would have to accept the fact that he simply couldn't withdraw whenever he was uncomfortable. Interactions shouldn't be taken lightly when Alex had made such a pointed effort to avoid any form of that in the past. Since Alex was quite literally stuck with the stranger, any slip-ups he made now would no doubt fuck him over in the future, especially since he had by some means achieved a personal vendetta against him courtesy of the universe.

There was no point in fussing over it now, even if there was a mild amount of guilt adjacent to the topic. He shouldn't have started the conversation in the first place, and once he did, he had abruptly made his situation worse by suddenly becoming overwhelmed and cutting off all communication.

And yet-

Perhaps he _should_ try again, just to justify himself. How was he supposed to explain something he didn't fully understand himself? Usually, he would simply bullshit his way through until things began to make more sense for at least one of the parties.

He was able to hold himself back from making any rash decisions in spite of his previous Olympian-worthy mental gymnastics. This was primarily because he didn't _want_ to. Contacting his soulmate again meant that he would have to acknowledge past failings, and he wasn't nearly drunk enough for that. 

Though, this was becoming something of a problem.

He finally got his new work load, which did help, for a grand total of two hours. Then, for the first time in years, _he_ had _zoned out_ , had _actually stopped working_ in favour of staring blankly at his covered forearm. With a grim determination, Alex forced himself to acknowledge that this was not sustainable. It got to the point where John had taken full notice, and, alarmingly enough, it was becoming increasingly difficult to fend him off with the often repetitive and always agonizingly _tiresome_ discussions of his own soulmate.

The sooner he could get things over with, and explain to his soulmate why having some form of contact was not of any interest in particular, the sooner he could resume his life without worrying how a stranger perceived him. He quickly ruled out time during work, and in the mornings, where he was far too ill-tempered to even consider have an important discussion.

By the time he had actually remembered his resolve, the day was doggedly encroaching on midnight. He huffed, frustrated at his lack of memory, and stiffly propped himself so he was resting with his back against the headboard after leaning over to reach the dulled lights by his bed. With any fortune, his soulmate would already be asleep, and Alex wouldn't have to deal with any of this tonight.

No such luck, of course.

Alex was willing to bet actual money on a conspiracy that the entire world was plotting against him. He watched the words against his forearm slowly transform, gentle and soothingly consistent, meandering like an idle, placid river.

The topic never stayed linear for long; it would frequently flit from what was currently happening, to bemoaning his supposedly infuriating colleagues, to what would happen tomorrow, and then back to whatever he was doing in the present in one long, lazy loop. Suddenly, Alex felt the impulse to just sit back and just _observe_.

There was a pronounced peace to the script across his skin, and he was more than aware that any interference would cause that calmness to derail. Though, with grim determination, he reminded himself that there was little point in postponing an awkward conversation, and the longer he left it, the worst it would be.

He gathered his thoughts, and took a breath. "Look, I'm sorry about what happened, the other day."

The winding, snake-like script abruptly trailed off, and for a split second, Alex's arm was left unsettlingly blank. At the very least, it was an indication that Alex had been heard - well, read - even if he was going to be ignored. Then, with the same practiced precision Alex had seen three days ago, ' _Oh, so_ now _you're talking to me?_ '

It didn't take a genius to read the agitation in those words. Alex sighed, already worn out, and pinched the bridge of his nose. The fact that he had gotten himself in this situation - and couldn't therefore blame anyone else - was particularly frustrating. "Only if you want me to."

The reply was quick, as though his soulmate had considered his answer before Alex had initiated the second conversation, and had long since resigned himself to giving it. ' _Fine, but only if you tell me why you suddenly left._ '

"It just - got weird." Alex swallowed harshly, and his throat clicked. "Uncomfortable."

_'So your response was to walk away?'_

Alex couldn't begin to read the tone, and he wryly sensed this would be a reoccurring theme in the future. Though, he couldn't exactly remain silent - or stop himself from thinking altogether. So, he hazarded, "Genuine or sarcastic?"

' _Both. But leaning towards sarcastic._ '

"Good to know." Alex said, unsure of what else to remark. "And yes, that is exactly my response."

' _You must be a joy to work around.'_ There was a pause. Alex failed to muffle a laugh, because he was well aware that, for the most part, he wasn't. The Seabury-desk debacle had affirmed this. Even if nobody was around to witness his efforts, he kept his appearance up by glaring at the words. Making matters more difficult, his soulmate added, _'Sarcasm, by the way_.'

"Thanks, asshole." Alex deadpanned, despite the smile carrying in his voice, one that couldn't be detected through writing but still felt uncomfortably telling. Regardless, he waited for a response, one that didn't seem particularly forthcoming as his forearm went suspiciously blank.

Alex frowned, adjusting uneasily to the strange sense of loss. Did he scare him away? Damn, that'd be typical of him, and Alex supposed he should probably know better than insulting people he didn't even know the second time talking to them. Whilst John cheerfully encouraged him, Hercules often had to reign him back and remind him that not everybody responded to passive aggression by destroying desks or lunging into fights or swearing.

Eventually, ' _You do realise I can read_ exactly _what you think, right_?'

He gave a pronounced wince at the lack of discipline with his thoughts, reluctant to admit the possibility that he had just come off as unpoised, or worse - _insecure_. Alex was self aware enough to accept the fact that he was both things, but that didn't necessarily mean he wanted someone he had never met to know. "Oh, fuck."

' _Indeed.'_ The response, though monosyllabic, was able to emphasis his soulmate's apparent amusement at Alex's lack of sophistication in this regard. _'It's nice to know you care._ '

He frowned. "I don't."

A pause.

' _I know_.'

At this, there was a prolonged gap, in which neither directly addressed each other. Now that Alex was looking, he could see the difference between incidental, unobtrusive thoughts and ones that were pointed and direct. The words beforehand, when they were communicating, had _felt_ far more pronounced. Though there was no physical difference between these, _something_ was magnetic about them, and Alex was drawn to these far more than the offhand, indirect comments.

As though testing this, Alex tentatively reached out. "You still here?"

' _Unfortunately. This sad, awkward little interaction is the highlight of my week_.'

Alex made a show of being offended, even if he lacked any witnesses. However, he could merrily concede the subject that it was indeed quite sad, and very awkward. This didn't stop him from objecting. "Hey, fuck you, I'm a pleasure to be around."

' _Yeah, like I would know._ '

Which was a good point.

If they had a discussion in person, this would be when a comfortable, familiar silence would fall. However, thoughts had no such discipline, and Alex watched as his soulmate's focus turned from what was being discussed to his work life, and other such trivialities that Alex was content to absorb. The late night had taken away reservations, and he murmured, "You dream about Paris."

His voice was far, _far_ too soft. He had intended to carry an aloof curiosity, but the burning intimacy of his words were not lost on him. Bringing up dreams felt like uncharted territory, mutually tabooed, and something he shouldn't talk about to a stranger.

After a constrained moment or so, there was a reply. _'I do_.'

Alex supposed he hadn't really posed a question and therefore didn't implicitly warrant a further comment. Despite his earlier hesitancy, he found himself reluctant to end their conversation, however stilted it may be. For lack of better things to say, he asked, "Why?"

If Alex had to guess, the reply would be delivered with an oddly wry infliction. ' _City of lights_.'

Alex considered this. When he spoke, it sounded like an accusation, even though he would bet that his soulmate would consider this an attribute as opposed to an insult. "You're a _romantic_."

' _And you are not_.'

Alex raised an eyebrow at the assured security of those words. In response to Alex's accusation, his soulmate had retorted with one of his own. The difference only served to highlight their supposed similarity; a rather unhelpful proclivity for starting arguments. "Oh?"

 _'I hope you're sitting down, because this may shock you.'_ There was an exaggerated, dramatic pause. Alex was less than impressed. _'Your first thoughts whenever soulmates come up is, and I quote '_ what utter bullshit' _. As I am more than a sentient ink blot, I can see this, and therefore, with the power of one human brain, I can infer that you dislike romanticism.'_

Alex huffed a laugh, because whilst the response didn't necessarily need to have that condescending edge to it, he could admit to himself that he had asked a question in which the answer was rather obvious. "You got me there. There was no need to be such a sarcastic bastard, though."

Another pause fell, which Alex again likened to a comfortable silence. Part of him wanted to try and drop off to sleep, but a predominant part was aware of the possibility that he could miss any further interactions. Under his scrutiny, the writing changed.

' _You're tired_.'

"How did-" Alex blinked and his last remaining brain cell finally kicked into action. "Right, soulmates and all that shit, stupid question."

' _Quite stupid, yes_. _What time is it for you?_ '

That was a good question, the answer to which Alex did not know. He glanced at his phone, abruptly rediscovering his hatred for very bright things like some bizarre anti-moth. The time was revealled to be one in the morning, which meant he had spent a _long_ time half-talking to someone he didn't even know the _name_ of. For some reason, this detail in particular struck with a peculiar note of uneasiness. "Late enough."

' _Same here. We must have similar time zones._ '

"What's your name?" Alex suddenly asked, surprising himself. Immediately, in a rush, he hastened to add, "I mean, you don't have to, and I'm not really sure why I asked you, so..."

' _I'm fine with giving my name_.'

There was a long pause, and then - Alex frowned. Regardless of how he squinted, he couldn't quite identify what was sprawled against his arm. Something that looked like a ' _P_ ' but could also easily be a ' _B_ ' started off the scrawl, but beyond that, Alex was lost. "I couldn't read that."

' _I know_ _. We can't read any names until we meet, including street names. I reckon it's a final_ 'fuck you' _to the human race_.'

"That's stupid." Alex muttered. He stifled a yawn with the back of his hand, half-heartedly cursing the fact that his ability to bounce back from a lack of sleep had gone with his teenage years. "I suppose it's for the best."

 _'You need to sleep.'_ Alex huffed a token protestation, but even he couldn't bother to put any effort into it. ' _Goodnight_.'

"Night."

Naturally, since sleep was not at all interested in abiding by Alex's direction, it evaded him for a solid half hour before he temporarily gave himself an reprise, in which 'coffee' (decaf, and he could _taste_ the difference) was brewed. A cursory glance at his forearm told Alex that his soulmate - the bastard - was already sleeping, and had no such need to partake in various insomniac rituals. 

Belatedly, he realised that he hadn't explained anything. He didn't state his reason why he couldn't continue contact, had gone ahead and asked for his name. Worse yet, he found himself unable to care. The second and more successful attempt at dialogue had gone surprisingly well, even with the thinly veiled insults and sharp comments.

Ultimately, he was able to finally win some rest, albeit with distinct lack of quality.

He was able to wade through his morning routine. Through his walk to work, John was mostly quiet, though he was brimming with the palpable urge to speak, which he stubbornly refused to do, even when prompted. He varied between glancing to the back of his arm, at the writing, and then looking at Alex impatiently, as if _he_ was responsible for the slow pace by spending half his time sharing _extremely_ saccharine sentiments with his soulmate and nearly _walking_ into _lampposts_ like a _fucking idiot._

By the time they got to the office building, Alex was trying to seem like he was no longer interested despite now being very, very curious. Unfortunately, instead of choosing between using his words like an adult, or keeping whatever was going on to himself, John all but dragged him to Lafayette's office. Then, with far too much melodrama, he threw open the door, startling Hercules and Lafayette, who were stood a little too close together for socially acceptable.

With a vigour that evoked an underlying _wrath_ in Alex's early morning temperament, John loudly announced, "The dance is in two days!"

There seemed to be a collective sigh.

" _Winter formal_." Alex half-heartedly corrected, crossing his arms and trying to reign in the mild frustration, and the petty urge to hit the fire alarm and watch everyone suffer just as much as he currently was.

John didn't seem to care about the lack of enthusiasm. He spun on his heel, exerting a level of energy than Alex privately believed was humanly impossible. There was a wide, frantic gesture, as John expressed, " _Two days_ , Alex!"

Alex winced, shying away from all the positivity as though it were a particularly harsh light. "Damn, John, I heard you the first time."

Tragically, John still seemed unfazed, beaming at the small group and proudly announcing, "I know we're going with people we hate, but there's going to be _liquor_. I hope it's chardonnay, like last time, 'cause that shit mixes well with gin."

This, of course, did not bode well.

Alex exchanged wary looks with Hercules, both on the same line of horrifying thought, but Lafayette was profoundly disturbed for a different reason. " _Mon Dieu,_ John, you don't mix _chardonnay_ with _gin_! That's _blasphemous_!"

"Besides, there's a two glass drinking limit that we all have to abide to." Hercules hastily interjected, giving John what was likely intended to be a warning look but was undermined by the evident alarm he felt at having to deal with _more_ of John's bullshit.

"For some." John agreed, far too amicable.

Hercules and Alex eyed John. John eyed them back, unrepentant, and Alex had no doubt that John intended to follow through on his implied threats. Then, both Hercules and Alex stared back at each other, a rapid war of willpower commencing, one that Alex couldn't afford to lose. Both tried to glare the other down, unblinking, and not be saddled with the dubious honour of dealing with a tipsy John.

Eventually, Alex was physically forced to blink due to the unfortunate fact that, unlike Hercules, he was not a lizard. This was taken as the victory it wasn't. He scowled. "I'm not dealing with him."

Hercules and Lafayette gave him matching looks that distinctively suggested how wrong his statement was.

"Come on Alex, he's not _that_ bad." Hercules insisted, lying through his teeth.

" _Not that bad_?" Alex repeated gravely, with the scarred, disillusioned tone of a man who had witnessed far too many intoxicated shenanigans from John ' _Not That Bad_ ' Laurens. "He's a fucking _nightmare_ to deal with when you aren't on an equal level of drunkenness. For someone so fucking lanky, he has a _shit_ tolerance."

"Hey, I'm right here!" John squawked, indignant, as though he was actually the wronged party, and innocent of any past crimes. He was justly ignored.

"We play rock, paper, scissors to decide who deals with this fucker." Alex decided firmly, jutting a thumb in John's general direction whilst not breaking eye contact with Hercules. "You know, like _gentlemen_ with _class_."

Hercules sighed, as though Alex was the one being difficult. "I'm going to win. You always go for rock."

"No, I don't." Alex scowled.

He believed, of course, that in a particularly cunning act of wit, he would follow Hercules's expectations and go with rock, to throw him of guard. It was likely that, now he had revealled what Alex would have done, he would assume Alex would do the opposite, act accordingly, and therefore lose the match. Hercules, of course, promptly matched him with paper and Alex drew back with a wince.

"....best of three?" He suggested.

"And he still went for rock." John said with a mild amount of awe. He glanced back at Lafayette, as though asking him if he had witnessed the same thing.

"It's concerning." Lafayette agreed.

"You're concerning." Alex snapped.

"And you're dealing with him, Alex." Hercules stated firmly. Alex grimaced, about to protest, but there came a point in life where even he had to admit defeat. Hercules nodded, as though sensing his realisation, and wanting to further support it. "He's _your_ problem."

"Damn it." He rounded on John, giving a sharp gesture that he hoped would succeed in underlining the unpleasant reality of this situation. " _Two drinks_ , Laurens. I'm going to be watching you like a fucking hawk."

"Yeah, a boring fucking hawk." John mumbled.

Alex narrowed his eyes. "What was that?"

John jutted his chin. "I won't take it back."

In that moment, Alex realised that dealing with John would be vastly counterproductive. He turned to Hercules, attempting to appeal to his common sense and interest in keeping all of his friends alive. "Herc. If not for the sake of my sanity, then for the sake of John's _safety_."

For a second, Hercules seemed to genuinely consider it, until Lafayette interrupted with, "If you're going to fight, then I put my bets on John."

"What the fuck?" Alex said at the same time John cackled loudly. Lafayette gave a slight lift to his shoulders, as though he was merely stating the unfortunate truth and Alex was overreacting. He scowled. "Explain yourself."

Lafayette stared. "Sorry, I don't speak English."

Alex was going to _throttle_ him.

At Hercules's warning look, any form of retribution would likely be answered with a corresponding action. He pointed viciously at the three of his supposed friends. "All of you are out of my will." 

Lafayette was the only one who seemed mildly offended. John, however, merely snorted, and shared an unbothered look with Hercules. "Oh no, whatever shall I do, now that the inheritance of a dead potted plant and four dollars is cruelly snatched away from me?"

"I'm not that broke." Alex said, which was an outrageous lie.

"Two _days_ , though." John muttered, shaking his head as though the passage of time was some great revelation to him. Alex rolled his eyes, an action that John either didn't notice or didn't care enough to comment on. "I am _so_ looking forward to this."

"Great." Alex huffed.

"It won't be that bad." Hercules said, though even he looked unsure. "I mean, what's the worst that could happen?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean at least I don't write in first person. Or interrupt the narrative to have a conversation with characters


	3. Breaches in Confidentiality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated entirely to harowun. I mildly dislike you  
> This is also getting worse as I progress, and idk why
> 
> Also, thanks at for telling me to update, @firthycreature, because I'm an unmotivated, lazy creature

Gradually, the days dragged by, as they often wont to do. Despite John's perplexing and almost perturbing insistence that it would all be fine - and Hercules gingerly stating that it _really_ couldn't go as bad as the seminar last year - the growing sense of trepidation surrounding the topic had yet to recede. Especially now since Alex was forced to deal with an inevitably irritating John.

The winter formal was, as the name subtly suggested, _formal._ Alex hadn't really grown much in high school - both a curse and a blessing - and he therefore didn't have to constantly update his wardrobe for things that were needed but rarely worn. After so long fastidiously avoiding these events, it took Alex roughly an hour or so to finally locate the suit, which had for some reason had placed itself at the left side of his closet, where he kept coats. The suit itself was neutral enough, though, he noticed with a critical eye, there wasn't much he could do about how it subliminally carried age.

By the time the day had actually arrived - a _Saturday_ nonetheless, because it absolutely _needed_ to be a complete waste of spare time - Alex was impatient and just wanted to get it over with. Unsurprisingly, when the hour finally rolled by, he was the last of his group to arrive, through something he adamantly believed was no fault of his own. He caught up to the other three, who were waiting in front of their office building for him.

"Welcome to hell!" John greeted, sweeping an arm back to gesture to the entirety of the not-rival-but-still-rather-rival firm, far too cheerful, and far too loud. This proud statement garnered a rather captious frown from a passing middle-aged man that Alex was unable to place a name to. There was a wry exchange of looks, and John sheepishly added, "Too cold to be hell, I guess."

Hercules frowned, shaking his head, though there wasn't a particularly stern twist in his expression. He peered down at his watch before thinning his lips in mild distaste. "We're five minutes late, we should head on in."

"I told you you should've skipped that light." Lafayette added in a deliberately overt undertone. John and Alex glanced at each other, equally unimpressed with the beginnings of a disgustingly lighthearted ' _argument'_.

"What, and get arrested?" Hercules retorted, arching an eyebrow.

"I think it would've been _funny_." Lafayette muttered, lightly nudging Hercules' shoulder with his own.

"Fines aren't funny."

"Are."

"Are not."

Lafayette paused for dramatic effect. Naturally, since the only person that cared about the response was Hercules, the pause didn’t last very long. "They _are,_ when I'm the one not paying for them."

This finally cracked through Hercules' loftily offended facade, and genuine bemusement emerged. "We have a _joint bank account,_ Laf, _why_ -"

"Oh, look!" John interrupted, bounding over to a table that consisted mainly of small, rectangular cards. He turned to face them, holding up a permanent marker with an exaggerated triumph. "They _finally_ brought name tags back! I missed them."

Lafayette warily eyed him. "I'm pretty sure the only reason they took them away in the first place was because of _you._ " 

"I still don't know why." John sniffed, prim, lifting the felt tipped pen and writing a name that was distinctively not his. Then, with _far_ too much pride, he peeled the back taping to reveal a light, adhesive layer and displayed his name tag on his blazer. "I want you all to meet _Richard Hunter,_ or _D_ -"

"We _know,_ John." Hercules said.

"God, you're so immature." Alex muttered, shaking his head, before doing the exact same. Hercules, in a characteristic of workplace informality, had added a small smiley-face next to his identification. Lafayette, in his usual manner of maybe-sincere, maybe-sarcastic, had added all ten of his names. There was a brief, awkward moment of shuffling in which they abandoned their coats in the coat room.

"And the party starts! This'll be fun." John grinned, clapping his hands together once and far too happy. Alex fiercely doubted this, but he nonetheless followed when John led the way into the main hall. The architecture hadn’t changed much over the years, and likely due to the similar parent companies, the rival office firm very vaguely resembled theirs. After a moment or so of brisk evaluation, John pointed at a small counter in the corner which seemed to temporarily double as a make-shift bar. "C'mon, let's get a drink."

"We're drinking later." Hercules said after a rather firm look from Lafayette.

"Or not at all." Lafayette grumbled, sending a sharp glance at Hercules, one that was justly ignored.

"You're all boring." John scowled. Hercules and Lafayette warily exchanged looks, as though sensing some sincerity to his tone. Alex, however, was more confident in how great he was to be around, and promptly objected. In response to a noteworthy rebuttal, John narrowed his eyes and mulishly insisted, " _All_ of you."

Despite John’s assured responses, none of them were particularly convinced, and a companionable quiet fell across the group. Alex took the time to further absorb their surroundings, picking up on little nuances across the building after a few comparisons with how the building looked a few years ago, back when Alex couldn’t talk his way out of attendance.

“Quiet.” Lafayette suddenly said despite the fact that nobody in their group was actually talking, drawing attention back to him. He was focused on something in the distance, directed towards the large crowd of people. It seemed that Lafayette was successful in whatever venture he embarked upon, as he perked up and called over with a loud, "James, is that you? Then that must mean... ah, there he is!”

“Hmm?” Alex tried to follow Lafayette’s line of vision, but due to the sheer amount of people, he was unable to find who Lafayette had been referring to. There was a moment, then Lafayette linked arms with Hercules, gave a half-apologetic nod to both John and Alex, then abruptly began to walk away.

‘ _Save me._ ’ Hercules mouthed.

Alex watched with cold, merciless eyes as Lafayette dragged a reluctant Hercules into the crowd. Within seconds, both of them had been obscured by the mass of workers. There was a long pause.

“They’re gone.” John keenly observed. Alex turned to give him an unimpressed look. John rolled his eyes, as though it was obvious and Alex was acting obtuse just to be frustrating. " _Drinks,_ Alex. They change shifts every hour or so. The earlier we get there, the more we can have."

For a brief second, Alex considered refusing out of a strange sense of solidarity towards the grudgingly sober Lafayette. Then, he decided that if the positions were reversed, Lafayette would not give a fuck and would most likely see it as a challenge to get as drunk as possible just to spite him. "Fuck it, I'm bored. Let's go."

John grinned. “After you, then.”

Tragically, the bar had already attracted many bored adults, which meant there were more people surrounding them than Alex would prefer. Regardless, he kept his pace, ordering the only drinks available (cheap, perfumey chardonnay) and nobly tried not to sigh when two rather sad looking flute glasses were grandly procured. He gave a slight nod of thanks to the drinks server, before making his way back to John, who had positioned himself awkwardly so he was in the way of anyone attempting to escape to the bar.

“John?” Alex asked. It was unclear whether or not John had heard him as his eyes were fixed upon something in the background. For a moment Alex considered waving a hand in front of his face before deciding that there would be amusing yet arguably catastrophic results due to him holding a small glass in each hand. Instead, he settled for a slightly louder, “John. Wine. _Alcohol_. This was your idea, remember?”

“Oh!” John snapped out of whatever daze he was in, ducking his head. He mumbled something unintelligibly to his shoes before accepting the offered glass. “Right, right, thanks.”

The drink, despite its long awaited presence, served as a distraction for an outstanding total of four seconds. John was staring into the crowd, again, and Alex abruptly decided that he couldn’t care enough to try and start a conversation. Alex momentarily searched the room in a half-effort endeavour to locate Lafayette and Hercules, but as expected, this search came up fruitless.

"I’m sorry, have we met?” Alex startled, turning sharply, only to notice that in his distracted state, a man had approached, and his attention was fixed on John. There was a long pause, and the stranger seemed deeply unsure of how to continue. “You just seem...."

"Familiar?” John finished, perhaps a little too quickly. “I think we might have."

The man glanced at John’s name tag and paused. He glanced at John, then at his name tag, then back again. Another long pause, and Alex did absolutely nothing to help ease John’s sudden and uncharacteristic embarrassment. The stranger offered a small half-smile. "What's your name?"

"John." He hastened to add, "Laurens." Then, a final and _impressively_ awkward, "John Laurens. That's what my friends call me."

"No, we don't." Alex said.

" _T_ _hank you,_ Alex." John hissed, and Alex took a moment to be bewildered by the lack of genuine gratitude. There was a half-gesture towards Alex’s general direction. “Um, this is my friend, Alexander.”

“ _Alexander_.” Alex muttered.

The man - Aaron Burr, his name tag promptly revealed - looked at Alex in a mild amount of surprise, as though only just noticing him. "My name is Aaron."

"Aaron." John repeated, as though it was the most profound thing ever to have been spoken. Alex had the quick and mildly offensive realisation that he was _deeply_ not wanted here.

"I'm going to get a drink on the other side of the room." Alex said. John sent him a profoundly grateful look, despite the fact that Alex already had a drink in his hands and they were standing right next to the bar. “Have fun.”

With his self-given dismissal, Alex backed away. True to his word, he struggled to get to the opposite side of the room, where less people were. He then wandered around, dodging small talk with practised ease until he found himself besides a corner with a completely empty glass and a dwindling will to live. There wasn’t much to do other than observe the crowd and hope that people began to leave so he could too, and not give the entirely accurate impression that he didn't want to be here.

Abruptly, through a temporary gap in the leftmost crowd, he was able to see both Hercules and a figure who he assumed was Lafayette, talking to two strangers. Out of boredom, Alex wondered if he should walk over and introduce himself, especially given the fact that it may be a while before John appears. He eventually decided against it, as the pained look Hercules was miserably failing to hide acted more than an effective deterrent.

Alex spent roughly half an hour by himself, alternating between watching the crowd and staring at his phone. Eventually, he decided to cut his losses - one hour was more than enough time, even if there was an additional two hours left on the official ‘welcoming’ letter - and headed back to the entrance in a bid to retrieve his coat. By this point, boredom had turned into a mild frustration, and he didn’t particularly care about the fact that he was probably the first one to leave.

He entered the coatroom and promptly regretted it.

"Oh my God, _no_."

Immediately, the two people jumped apart. He stared, an emotion close to betrayal at having the misfortune of witnessing this turn of events. John blinked owlishly, looking both pleased and sheepish. Burr, however, looked mortified, ducking his head to rest just behind John's shoulder to obscure his expression. 

John caught his footing and raised an eyebrow. "Can you close the door? It’s cold."

"Fucking hell.” Alex said, shaking his head and ignoring John’s request. “ _Scarred_ for _life_."

“Should I…?” John hesitantly trailed off, adjusting his position so he could read Burr’s expression. Burr gave a shrug, straightening his posture, though he still looked embarrassed. Alex then noticed that their hands were intertwined and. “Right. Well. You know the fact that I have a soulmate?”

“Oh.” Alex said, not really getting it. Then, after taking a second to think, “ _Oh!_ ”

A long pause.

Alex allowed a sigh, and a slight shake of his head. John immediately tensed, glancing between Burr and Alex. Alex, with as much earnest empathy he could muster, made eye contact with Burr. “Aaron, I am so, _so_ sorry. John’s a pain at the best of times.”

John made a loud scoffing noise, though there was a far more eased set to his shoulders. He gave a mock scowl. “You’re supposed to be my friend."

Alex gave an indifferent shrug of his shoulders. Then, with a sharp, exaggerated movement, he backed towards the door, casting the pair a weary look. "I'm going. Try not to scandalise too many people."

John objected in defence of himself, but to underline his point, Alex closed the door and walked away

He belatedly realised that he had forgotten to ask for his coat, and therefore would be unable to leave. There was a moment of consideration as he evaluated which situation would be the lesser of two evils, before deciding that suffering for another hour or so of social interaction was a far kinder option for most involved.

Despite the fact that Alex hadn’t noticed anyone leave yet, the crowd was slowly thinning, and the majority of people were now circulating the bar. He weighed the pros and cons of trying to join the crowd and get another drink.

"Alex!” A voice - Hercules, Alex recognised - called. He turned on his heel, and found that Hercules was waving him over from where he was standing a few meters away from Lafayette and the two strangers. As Alex approached, Hercules complained, “They've been talking in French for the past hour. Where's John?"

Alex sighed. "He met his soulmate. I'll just leave it at that."

Hercules let out a whistle through his teeth, trying to appear sympathetic but appearing pleased by both John’s success and Alex’s suffering. "Lucky bastard. God knows he's been obsessing over it."

"I guess _Richard Hunter_ lived up to his name." Alex mused. Hercules gave him a disapproving frown but Alex recognised his own genius and refused to let the lack of appreciation get to him. He took a moment to eye the bar, which had only barely lost activity. He supposed they both had nothing to do. "Let's see if I can out-drink you."

Hercules frowned. "Please, you wouldn't last four seconds.”

Lafayette, with his usual sense of bad timing, decided to prevent any fun possible, and took that moment to break away from the discussion he was having and call, "Alex! _Mon cher,_ come over."

Alex inwardly groaned. “Oh, no." 

"It's like he can _sense_ when I'm about to get my second drink."

“It’s because he’s French. Wine is a second language.”

Hercules gave him a profoundly sceptical look. “I’m telling him you said that.”

"Go ahead, he’ll agree.” There was a long pause, in which Alex tried to gauge Lafayette’s discussion and whether or not Alex would be able to mysteriously slip away without being caught. It was evident that no such escape would be attainable, as Lafayette glanced over and gave him a look of warning. “Hmm. I should probably go over. Wait up, I’m not getting drinks alone.”

"No promises." Hercules grumbled.

After sending one last forlorn look at Hercules, Alex grudgingly made his way over to Lafayette, placing as much reluctance as he could into his steps. Lafayette chose to ignore him until he was close enough to hear the conversation, which abruptly halted upon his arrival. Lafayette grinned. “This is the Alex I was telling you both about.”

One of the strangers peered at him, then initiated a handshake coupled with a mumbled, “I’m James.”

The other stranger had yet to even acknowledge Alex’s presence. Alex glanced at Lafayette, but there was no averse or surprised reaction. It seemed ignoring other people was a common habit. Lafayette added, "This is another friend of mine, Thomas. I think you two will get along."

Alex sincerely doubted that.

He spared a glance to the stranger, only to be taken aback when the other had finally deemed his presence worthy of acknowledgement. Their eyes met. Immediately, Alex had to ignore how self conscious the attention made him, and he resisted the urge to smooth out his blazer, adjust the cuffs of his shirt, or do something else equally stupid that would allow the other to sense any form of weakness.

The silence was almost suffocating as they both regarded each other, and for a moment, Alex forgot where he was, and who was around him; he was caught, put on a unique hold, by dark, dark eyes and evaluating stare.

Then, the moment passed, and the stranger looked away.

"Evening." The stranger said, completely disinterested, and Alex winced at the sheer _disappointment_ that dismissal gave him. Though, he quickly remembered himself, and chose to take an appropriate amount of offence.

He could very easily tell him to fuck right off, but Lafayette was carefully watching their interaction, as though expecting something positive to happen. He decided against making a scene, and returned the sentiment, offering his hand. The man actually paused, as though debating whether or not he should complete a basic nicety.

Alex gritted his teeth because - handsome or not - there was no need to act like such a bastard. Eventually, the seemed to come to the same conclusion as Alex - that making a scene in front of their respective coworkers was a bad idea - and gingerly offered his own hand.

Immediately, his eyes were drawn on the back of the man’s hand, in which a long ink smudge spiralled across the length of it.

Upon closer inspection, the smudge had more distinct characters.

_'Pretentious... still cute, though.'_

It took Alex a long, hard second.

And - oh, that was _his_ handwriting, wasn't it? It was his handwriting, on the back of his hand, with words that rapidly morphed and twisted. The longer Alex stared, the worse the changes got, and he jerked himself back as if he had been electrocuted. 

"Oh." He breathed, which was an understatement.

The man - his _soulmate_ \- Thomas, barely seemed phased by Alex's stunned stupor. If possible, he seemed more uninterested than before, somehow more withdrawn. "I've been told it's an unusual placement."

"Yeah, no, I - yeah. Unusual." Alex hastily agreed. He took a step back, cleared his throat. Rather awkwardly, he gestured behind himself, taking another step back. "I've got to go. Stuff. Bye."

"He's... not usually like this." Lafayette said, amused, as Alex retreated. "It’s not like him to be shy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls give comments. I am a vastly unproductive human, and need validation


	4. The Search, and Other Such Frivolities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aha bet you thought I was gone for good huh

The icy air was like a slap to the face. He hissed through his teeth, instinctively hurrying to draw his blazer closer to his chest before remembering that he had left it with John - John, who was with his soulmate, and, speaking of soulmates-

"Alex, you good?"

Alex startled, feeling uncharacteristically caught out. He turned, perhaps too quickly, on his heel, and was not surprised to find Hercules facing him, arms crossed in defence against the cold. On autopilot, Alex leaned backwards slightly, feigning indifference. "Yeah, just need some air."

"Alright." They stared at each other. Hercules did an awkward sideways shuffle, taking a small step back and then cringing, neither breaking eye contact during the movements. "I'm guessing you don't want to talk about it, so I'll just-" He jerked his thumb towards the door.

"I'll be back soon." Alex promised, though he sounded unsure to his own ears. He didn't particularly want to go back inside, in the same room as - _him_ , especially when everything was so raw and he didn't have enough time to process anything. He sighed, raking a hand through his hair and wondering how things had escalated so damn quickly.

"Don't strain yourself." Hercules warned, though thankfully backed away after one last glance of concern. Alex noticed with a degree of relief that he was completely alone, disregarding the scarcity of people slowly ambling their respective ways home. None paid him much attention.

With a sense of trepidation, Alex rolled up his sleeve and coolly eyed the pale script.

' _So damn bored..._ '

A second passed.

Then, a minute.

He found himself completely frozen over, entirely and quite suddenly overwhelmed by the _gravity_ of the situation he was in. It weighed down on him, the fact that he had just met his _soulmate_ , he knew the man who had these thoughts, and there was no way to unlearn this.

Logically, he knew that now wasn't a good time for any sort of confrontation. However, currently Alex didn't give fuck about logic, regardless how dire future consequences would be. After double checking once more that he was, in fact, alone, Alex spoke with a frosty conviction. "I know who you are."

He waited, focusing on those five words with as much effort as possible.

The response took a mere minute or so to be recognised and progressed. As soon as what Alex had said and meant was fully understood, he could almost _feel_ the confusion. The reply was hasty, written around a few other rapidly shifting words. _'Wait, what the hell are you talking about?'_

Wilful venom crept into his voice. "You tell me, _Thomas_."

_'Shit!'_

A rapid stream of words proceeded to blur into each other with rushed, jumbled letters. Alex tried to observe as much as possible, but the entire night had left him with a headache, so he couldn't focus on anything other than the reoccurring thought of, _'How?'_

For a moment, Alex paused. He considered his answer, despite knowing that it would be in vain; no matter how undisciplined, his thoughts would still be on show for the damned stranger. Though, for the sake of his sanity, he preferred to ignore that. "We talked, I noticed. It wasn't that difficult."

Immediately, ' _We talked? Wait._ _Shit._ '

"What?" Dread had settled into the pit of his stomach. For a second, Alex was faced with the idea that he knew, that somehow, he remembered Alex, and was horrified by the revelation.

 _'I talked to so many people, I didn't think -_ _fuck._ '

So, he didn't know.

This brought an uncomfortable mixture of relief and disappointment. To make matters more complex, Alex wasn't even sure if he _wanted_ the other person to know. There was no way in hell they would work out; even though the man held his own - appeal, Alex was certain he would end up being dismissed after fully committing.

Did he want a soulmate? It was difficult to compare the future he had imagined with his supposedly most compatible life partner against the cool, distant man a few metres away.

 _No_ , Alex decided. It was best they pretend this interaction had never happened. Although the potential - unrealistic but nonetheless relentless - was demanding confrontation, he had his future to look after.

During his evaluation, the mark against his forearm had began to warm, then, with Alex focused on ignoring this, it began to ache. Irritated, he glared at the writing.

' _Who are you?'_ Alex forced himself to observe his surroundings, avoiding so much as an inkling of his identity. As though his motives were unclear, his soulmate tried again, _'We can finally meet.'_

Already, Alex could tell that this was going to be an issue, but he was worn out, and drained from all of the events today. He allowed himself a brief reprieve, wishing that he hadn't given up on smoking with a vigor that grew more intense each moment.

Especially since his soulmate was dead set on garnering some sort of confirmation. 

' _We could meet. You're still at the office party, right? You could just approach, and..._ '

"You're not sure what will happen, either." Alex mused, as the thought trailed off and the end response grew distinctly lacking. "It's not a good idea, so..."

Alex's inability to finish that sentence was made up with the firmness of the response. With knife sharp focus, his forearm cleared, displaying one word. ' _Why?_ '

"Because I don't want to."

The truth in his words felt criminal.

It was selfish, Alex could concede, but being selfish was sometimes necessary for self preservation. Alex wasn't going to let some stranger - who didn't even care about who Alex was - enter his life and cause a scene. It was safer, and Alex was _happy_ with this. Or, at least, he would learn to be.

He had resolved upon heading back inside as though nothing had happened, soul mark hidden from prying eyes, but the sudden and insistent itch returned. He resolved to look, and answer, one last time.

' _This shouldn't be up to you to decide._ '

"Well, it is." Alex said, and jerked his sleeve down. Despite the finality of his statement, the almost feverish needling of a thought being directed specifically at him indicated that his soulmate was far from done with this topic. Regardless, he did his best to ignore it. This chapter of his life was over, and it was ideal to turn a new page over as soon as possible - to forget all of this, to pursue his career without any distractions.

Before reentering, Alex did his best to dispel the guilty unease struggling to cling to his back. He took a breath, then two, and pushed open the door.

He refused to glance over to Lafayette, walking directly over to Hercules. "Want a second drink?"

"Depends." Hercules eyed him. After deeming Alex suitably sober and emotionally collected, he continued with a wry, "John told me to hang onto this, but since he's indisposed..." Hercules trailed off, revealing a sizeable bottle of vodka.

Alex would have like to been surprised, but John had pulled so many of these antics before, all Alex could muster up was a mild offence that he wasn't directly involved. "Is that a bottle of vodka up your sleeve, or are you just happy to see me? It can be both."

"We should probably avoid Lafayette when we're drinking." Hercules glanced over to his right, where Lafayette most likely was. Alex spared a quick glance, and noticed with some relief that the company around him had changed. "Don't make eye contact, he has a horrible knack for making you feel guilty with his eyes."

"That probably only works on you." Alex pointed out. "So he's tonight's designated driver?"

"What gave it away?" Hercules deadpanned.

"The fact that he's been glaring at you for the past five minutes." Alex answered in an equally monotonous voice. Then, in a rueful voice, "So he won't pick us up any mixers?"

Hercules barked a short laugh. "You're welcome to try."

“We’ll have to drink it straight.” Alex eventually conceded.

“Problem?”

“Hardly.” Alex stole the bottle from Hercules' hands, popped open the lid and tipped it back. The burn was far harsher than he expected, and he grimaced, handing the bottle back and attempting to stifle a handful of indignant coughs. "At least some of today will be fun."

"Try not to get kicked out again." Hercules grinned, taking a swig before wearing an equally disgusted face at the fiery taste. "John really wasn't fucking about with this, damn."

As the bottle emptied, as did Alex's reservations.

The rest of the night was a blur.

*********

"Wake up!"

Alex scrambled upright, heart in his throat, frantically scanning the area to place the voice to a face. When he realised that the interloper was, in fact, John, he collapsed onto his back and let out a long, world-weary sigh. There wasn't much else he could do asides from lethargically swat at the air in John's general direction and hope that his ill will would somehow make an impact.

It took him a minute or so of trial and error, but eventually Alex was able to open his eyes against the dimmed room. Immediately, his eyes were drawn to John, and how he stood over Hercules like a grotesque horror film character. With a lazy interest, Alex watched as John quietly leaned down, raised his hands and slammed them together, creating an ungodly explosion of noise.

"Fuck you, John." Hercules gritted out from where he lay, face down and immobile. "Fuck. You."

"Why?" Alex threw an arm over his eyes, hoping that this would somehow assuage the throbbing headache that was now worse than ever. "Why, John? We were _friends_."

"I let you into my home, and you betray me." Hercules mumbled, voice groggy with sleep.

"Sunday is funday." John stubbornly replied. "So, get your asses up and watch doctor who at max volume with me.

"Why are you here? I thought you were going to stay with-" The name alluded Alex. "-the guy in the closet."

" _Aaron_ is my _soulmate_." John corrected primly, taking a seat besides Hercules and facing Alex. It appeared that John wasn't completely heartless, as on the coffee table, there were four paracetamol pills and two glasses of water. Alex took two pills and a glass. "Of course I didn't stay over his, we were just talking."

Alex, who had personally walked in on them ' _just talking_ ', scoffed with a degree of derision. "Bull to the shit, Laurens."

"Well, we went our separate ways. You should know, you dragged me away from him." At Alex's rather perplexed expression, John mused, "So you don't remember crying about croutons, tea and the color purple... I have no idea what purple did in particular, but you were sure as hell pissed."

With the early placebo of painkillers kicking in, Alex forced himself to sit, propping his back up and sending John a rather amused look. "So, _Aaron_ , is it?"

John rolled his eyes, exasperated by Alex's existence, but shyly pleased about the mention of Aaron. "It is. He's not awake yet, but it's like, six in the mor-"

Alex let out a squawk of raw outrage, the sort only exhausted hungover adults approaching the horrible age of thirty could make. "Are you _shitting_ me? It's six in the _fucking_ morning?"

"Yep." John looked grievously unrepentant. "We wanted to spite you."

Alex frowned. "We?"

As if on a cue only he could read, " _Bon-_ fucking _-jour_ , my supposed _amis_."

Lafayette ominously emerged from a doorway. By some feat of theatrics, he managed to make the sipping of a drink seem profoundly passive aggressive. Alex inwardly groaned.

"Want to explain to Lafayette where you got that alcohol?" John innocently queried, because of course his life mission would be to make Alex suffer as much as possible. Alex immediately glanced over to Hercules for some form of support, but the bastard was somehow already asleep. At Alex's insistent silence, Lafayette rolled his eyes, turning on the nearby television and causing Alex to wince at the sheer noise it made. Hercules, who enjoyed not supporting Alex, barely even twitched.

"I hate you all." Alex announced with no real feeling besides exhaustion.

"Tragic." John intoned, leaning to rest his back on the leg of the couch. For the most part, Alex was able to zone out, stretching out and ignoring Lafayette completely, even when his legs were pushed off. Without much conscious thought, he glanced down at his forearm. The scene, predictably, was of Paris. The image caused Alex to snap back to himself.

He looked away.

The rest of the day passed in an idly familiar fashion. Lafayette would dramatically wake Hercules up, presenting him with gifts of splendour such as coffee and a gentle tone of voice _(and Alex muttered under his breath about double standards_ ). John would also insist on watching at least one episode of illegally streamed doctor who (equipped with Russian subtitles) before the controls were thankfully absconded with by Hercules.

After he dismissed himself from the apartment, John in tow and unfortunately gushing about Aaron, he was able to make it back to his place without further incident or undue suffering. There wasn't much else to do when he arrived asides from sleep, especially since it was only about an hour or so before his usual (project and paperless) bedtime. The headache had yet to fully recede, but he was no longer experiencing any other symptoms, so he counted that as a minor victory.

Far often than he would like to admit, Alex would find his interest moderately lured towards the words he knew would be splayed against his skin in a gently sloping script. Each time, he would reject the oddly pressing urge to check, though he could feel his resolve soften now that his routine had firmly reasserted itself.

Be that as it may, Alex had more pressing matters: sleep, then work in the morning.

By the time Monday bothered to arrive, Alex's thoughts were far more disciplined in preparation of the work ahead. He met John as per usual, and was abruptly bombarded with various facts about Aaron - _'his cat's name is Frank!_ ' - and Alex would, in clear words, express how little he cared. John, of course, ignored him, and continued to cheerfully talk at Alex.

As per the usual, they were joined by Lafayette and Hercules halfway through the hallway to their weekly debriefing. For the most part, they endured John's poetic waxing with minimal complaints, likely due to their own previous love-drunk insufferability. However, approximately ten meters from their destination, Alex paused. "Something feels wrong."

"You feel wrong." John muttered.

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Probably because I'm not Aa-"

"Oh, fuck off." John rolled his eyes, as though Alex wasn't the pinnacle of modern comedy. Alex nudged him with enough force for John to decide it was appropriate to dramatically throw himself against the wall. Predictably, the only person that paid attention was Lafayette, who nodded in approval at John's melodrama.

They continued to walk. Again, Alex paused, insisting, "For real though, something feels different."

Predictably, " _You_ feel d-"

"Damn in, John, learn from your mistakes." Hercules interrupted, pained, even though Lafayette seemed greatly amused by John and Alex's collective stubbornness. After a second of pause, John immediately launched into - shockingly enough - another one sided conversation about Aaron that only Lafayette actively participate in. Under his breath, Hercules. "Imagine the wedding. John's vows would last years."

Loud enough for John to hear, Alex asked, "Can I be flower boy?"

"No, I've already called dibs."

John sent him a look while the small group proceeded down the hallway and closer towards the meeting room. "Besides, the answer would be no, because you'd end up target practising with the petals."

"That's a damn shame, I love-"

As they rounded the corner, Alex's his breath caught in his throat.

His stare was met and held.

There, in the midst of the debriefing room, was his _soulmate_.

Alex could feel himself flush, flustered at being thrown into the situation unawares and held captive by the eyes watching him. Thomas was leaning against the wall with a practised ease, primarily towards the back of the room. It seemed that a slight, fleeting flicker of recognition softened the mild frown he wore, but then his gaze landed on Lafayette, and his expression lightened entirely to a small, relaxed smile when Lafayette noticed him back.

"Love what?" John asked, nudging his shoulder. "Hercules or flowers?"

"Choose your answer carefully, and remember that I am a sensitive soul." Hercules instructed, watching Lafayette as he made his way across the room to properly greet Thomas. John seemed to quickly become distracted by his phone, muttering something about _Aaron_ that went unappreciated, as both Hercules and Alex were watching Lafayette and Thomas.

"Why are there _strangers_?" Alex hissed, lowering his voice so that only Hercules could hear him. Thomas hadn't glanced back at Alex, focusing on Lafayette, making light conversation with smiles that Alex could tell weren't fake, not like the ones he had received two nights ago.

"New workers, I guess." Hercules shrugged, sounding unbothered. After another few moments of stunned observation, Alex forced himself to follow after Hercules, who sat by their usual area. "Didn't we meet him yesterday?"

"Yep." Alex said.

"You don't sound too happy." Hercules noted dryly.

"I'm not."

Hercules rather distinctively wanted to pursue that topic, but as soon as Alex had finished the sentence, Washington arrived, and an immediate halt to all conversations was brought. The regular greetings were exchanged, throughout which Alex balanced his attention between Washington, Thomas and Lafayette, and making sure that Hercules didnt notice how distracted he was.

Thomas didn't seem to pay much attention to what Washington was saying. For the most part, he was watching everyone else, scanning the group of people gathered. As soon as Alex noticed the risk of him being caught, he looked away.

Even when he felt Thomas's eyes land on him, he stared at the table underneath his hands, keeping still and trying to appear as though he was listening to Washington discuss ' _the new transfer, Thomas Jefferson._ '

After a minute or so, they were dismissed, and the room slowly emptied. Alex was one of the first to leave, dragging an apathetic John after him. They stood to the right side, waiting for Lafayette and Hercules to emerge, Alex with what was undoubtedly far more impatience than usual.

Unfortunately, when Lafayette did appear, he was besides Thomas, chatting amicably. When he saw that John and Alex had been waiting for them, he waved them off apologetically.

"Well, that's sad." John mused, watching them leave.

Alex made a noncommittal sound, inwardly relieved at the lack of interaction he would have to have. Regardless, he was impatient, and left for his own office shortly after.

The moment the door had closed _(slammed)_ behind him, Alex hissed through his teeth. He tried to reign himself in for at least ten minutes in order to make sure Lafayette wasn't still with Thomas when he spoke. Alex, however, knew that patience wasn't one of his virtues, and after about two minutes, he snapped, "You took a job in my office? What the fuck, Thomas?"

The reply was quick - it was almost as though Thomas had predicted this outcome and had prepared each response.

' _I wanted to meet you_.'

"You-" Alex, for once, struggled to grasp the suitable words. After a few seconds of fumbling, he accused, "You needlessly changed your career trajectory!"

' _You're my soulmate_.'

As if that was reason enough.

Then, almost as though Thomas felt the need to deflect Alex's frustrated disbelief, he added, _'I know you were planning on never meeting me again_.'

Alex narrowed his eyes and desperately hoped that, some how, his tone of voice would be accurately conveyed through writing. With as much emphasis on each word, Alex gritted out, " _Don't_ turn this on me, you made your own fucking decision - not that it makes any goddamn sense. You don't even like me!"

Irritatingly enough:

' _I don't remember disliking anyone in particular_.'

Alex scoffed. "You don't remember me, either."

Thomas didn't seem to have anything to say to that. His thoughts were unfocused, and Alex wasn't inclined to decipher any of the words into accurate sentences. Instead, he waited, until Thomas eventually replied with, ' _I thought that - somehow, I'd instantly know, and that would be it._ '

"Married, picket-fenced suburban, two-point-five kids?" Alex asked, intending to sound dry but even he couldn't deny the bitterness in his voice. "That's not how life works, Thomas."

A pause.

' _I know_.'

**Author's Note:**

> Ok I lied this was never in my drafts but you cant stop me.
> 
> Check out this cool Jamilton vid  
> https://youtu.be/dQw4w9WgXcQ


End file.
